Is There Somewhere
by Kvhottie
Summary: Yamaguchi is an up-and-coming indie singer with an abusive boyfriend and only his songs to rely on. Tsukishima is a solitary government hacker who is moved by one of Yamaguchi's promotional performances. Their love starts with a one-night stand.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All the bolded, italicized words in the fic are from Halsey's songs, Hold Me Down, Trouble, and Is There Somewhere. I highly suggest listening to them if you want to get the full vibe of the fic. I made a playlist here: playlist?list=PL74BfVVr1pYxn9Z6ZWBrgkPiFPFiBZDOj

For a while now Yamaguchi had known trusting this man was a mistake. It had eaten at his gut, rattling his conscience, and putting up red warning flags—but the resulting realization that he had nothing else eroded any desire to flee.

He no longer had other options.

"Why're you staring so hard? Want to have a quickie before you go on stage?"

Yamaguchi shook his head, "No, Ryouji." His voice was soft, almost hesitant.

 _ **I'm helpless, clinging to a little bit of spine.**_

"Oh, come on." Ryouji reached over and yanked the small blue notebook out of Yamaguchi's hands, dropping it on the floor. He gripped Yamaguchi's chin, hard, and turned it towards him, a smirk playing out on his face, "Stop teasing."

"I'm not," Yamaguchi mumbled while trying to pry Ryouji's hands off his face, "Stop it. My voice will get hoarse if we do anything."

Ryouji nibbled on Yamaguchi's ear and trailed his tongue around the two silver hoops, "I can muffle you…you'd look so good with your cheeks flushed in that spotlight."

"No." Yamaguchi repeated, this time with more force and a slight shove. "You promised never to get in the way of my singing."

Ryouji let go of Yamaguchi's face and ran a hand through his own short black hair with a strained sigh, "I know what I promised you…" He shot his hand forward, grabbed a handful of Yamaguchi's hair, and wrenched it towards himself. Yamaguchi fell off his chair and landed on his knees in front of Ryouji, eyes teary, knees throbbing, and lips quivering. Ryouji bent forward, mouth right against Yamaguchi's ear and voice taut, "Don't tell me what I already know. I hate it when you get an attitude with me."

He let go, his booming laugh filling the room as he caressed Yamaguchi's cheek with his pointer finger, "But you are right, singing comes first."

 _ **I sold my soul to a three-piece, and he told me I was holy. He's got me down on both knees, but it's the devil that's tryna hold me down.**_

Ryouji stood up, "I'll go check on your call time, " and left the room.

Yamaguchi finally took a breath, letting his body slack and slump further into the floor. He made it out of that unscathed. If he had made Ryouji angrier he would have had to go on stage with a bruised cheek. Yamaguchi picked up his notebook and set it on his lap, running his thumb on the edges of the leather cover. That always calmed him down a bit. _Breathe_. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, counting up to five, and then let it out, slowly opening his eyes again. He'd be just fine. All he had to do was go out on that stage and sing like he always did. The stage was his reprieve; he could find peace there and vent all his feelings—he was okay as long as there was a stage waiting for him.

Yamaguchi slipped his hairband off his wrist and gathered half of his neck-length hair into a half-up-half-down hairstyle. He walked over to the full-length mirror on the closet of the changing room and examined his face. His exhaustion pooled in the small bags under his eyes and the hollows of his sunken face, which in turn made his freckles even more prominent. These stupid freckles—Ryouji had suggested that when Yamaguchi debuts, they should use stage makeup to make his face look more 'normal'. Nothing changed since he was a kid, everyone, including himself, hated these ugly dots. Yet, he didn't want to hide them. They were an integral part of him; every dot was a flaw he dreamed of someone unconditionally accepting some day. But that would never happen.

Ryouji opened the door, "You're on in five minutes. Drink some water, smile more, and don't fuck up." He walked up to Yamaguchi and patted his cheek, "Remember how important these promotional shows are. You signed a contract so your fuckup falls on my shoulders and we don't want that happening, okay?"

Yamaguchi lowered his eyes and nodded, "I know already."

"Good." Ryouji licked his lips, "Now, give me a kiss. It'll calm you down."

 _It won't, quite the opposite, really._

Yamaguchi leaned forward, shutting his eyes before he could get a close look at those unfamiliar grey irises—he couldn't remember what he loved about these eyes anymore. They were rigid, dark, and filled with a twisted version of that love Ryouji had professed a few years ago. These rough hands on his neck pulling him forward in impatience used to ghost over his skin, scared to leave even one bruise. These lips and tongue so eager to assault him used to taste like caramel candy and cigarettes, but now their taste was muddled by the taste of all the other lips they've landed on. Yamaguchi broke the kiss just as the feeling of repulsion started to churn his stomach, "If I don't go I'll miss my cue."

Ryouji smacked him on the ass, "Go get 'em."

Yamaguchi forced a grin as he walked away, rubbing his lips with the back of his hand when he was out of sight. _Breathe._ He pulled up his jeans and fussed with his white V-neck behind the stage right curtains. This was just a restaurant  & bar with a nice mahogany stage and a maximum of twenty to thirty people. He'd done this countless times. He closed his eyes and remembered the performance two months ago where a drunk guy climbed onto the stage and tried to make out with him right there. Well, it was the gay district so it didn't take him by complete surprise, but he'd never seen Ryouji blow such a fuse. He stormed on stage and flung the guy onto the table near the front, breaking it. Yamaguchi shook his head, straightened up, and walked onto the stage when he was called; his keyboard and audience was waiting.

The lights on the small stage weren't blaring enough to blind him, the front row of tables still visible if he looked out, so he didn't. He reached the keyboard, tracing the silver edge closest to his body to calm his nerves, and adjusted the microphone to suit his height better.

"I'm Yamaguchi Tadashi. I am an up-and-coming singer. This song is called Trouble."

And he glanced into the audience out of courtesy, like he always did. But instead of glazing over the sea of drunken faces, his eyes landed on a head of yellow on the front row, off to the left. Even with the distance between them, Yamaguchi could almost feel those golden, glasses-framed eyes piercing him. The stranger swirled his pink drink with a bored expression on his face…and Yamaguchi wanted to change that.

 ** _Would you bleed for me?_** He started, eyes closed and voice thick with the jagged emotions Ryouji filled him with. Anger, pain, and regret lacing every intonation of his raw and resonant voice. His fingers glided on the piano in matched emotion—modulated, but wild, yet, low and pointed—and he opened his eyes to look at the blonde stranger. Yamaguchi met his eyes and held the gaze while his voice and lips flirted with the microphone.

 ** _I bet you kiss your knuckles right before they touch my cheek._**

The stranger leaned forward on his table and set his glass down to give his full attention to Yamaguchi. He was listening. Now approaching the chorus, Yamaguchi let his fingers fall heavily on the keys and put full force behind his austere voice.

 _ **But I've got my mind made up this time. Cause there's a menace in my bed. Can you see his silhouette? Can you see his silhouette? Can you see his silhouette?**_

Yamaguchi lowered his gaze, afraid that the image of this stranger would change the tone of the song; there was a fire he hadn't felt for a long time forming in his gut. So, he thought of Ryouji to bring himself back to the moments when this song was written—back to the cut lips, sore wrists, and bruised face wet with tears. He thought of his own pitifulness, the suffocating loneliness, and that numb sensation that engulfed his heart whenever Ryouji embraced him. And he thought about leaving him, the vindictive tones highlighting every syllable in the lyrics. He emptied himself on this stage, a sense of relief overcoming him with every word that left his mouth. He unloaded his burdens and left them there so he could move again. Music breathed life into him, reinforcing his creaking bones and pulling him forward. Could he communicate this to his audience? Would they join him momentarily in this pain and soothe his worries? He whispered the last few words of he song with these thoughts in mind, his fingers dragging out the last note and gaze hazily lifting. His breath caught in his throat and heart clenched in his chest—the stranger was grinning.

Yamaguchi ripped his eyes away and bowed, ducking off stage in an unexplainable hurry. He needed to see Ryouji and anchor his wandering thoughts to the ground. After not having run into him backstage, which was predictable, Ryouji rarely watched his shows, Yamaguchi headed to the dressing room. But he wasn't there. Yamaguchi sighed and packed his bag; Ryouji was probably shacking up in some motel with the girl that guided them to the dressing room earlier today. Ryouji would be busy all night so Yamaguchi was free to do whatever he wanted. He'd get a drink (maybe that blonde guy was still around). He slung his bag on his shoulder and made his way to the main part of the bar. He scanned the room, spotting the blonde man at the bar counter, and wandered over. _Be cool._ He leaned on the counter and threw a nervous smile at the bartender who quickly came over to comment on how great his performance was. Yamaguchi thanked him, occasionally glancing at the blonde man a stool away, and ordered a ginger ale highball. _What was he even doing?_ This guy didn't seem interested in anything, especially not a useless conversation with a stranger. Yamaguchi sat down with a heavy sigh and played with one of his earrings as he watched the bartender prepare the drink. _Why was he so interested in this guy, well, aside from his being incredibly attractive?_ The bartender set Yamaguchi's drink in front of him and Yamaguchi brought it up to his lips, taking a sip while stealing another side-glance at the blonde guy. The man met his stare, swirling the pink concoction as he had earlier, a malicious glint in his eyes and lips curling into a small smirk. Yamaguchi coughed down the burning sip he had taken and quickly looked away, the hand holding up his glass slightly shaking.

"Your singing voice is ridiculously deceiving…"

Yamaguchi traced the rim of his glass, "Yeah, people often tell me I sound like a boy going through puberty when I'm not singing."

"I can see why they say that."

Yamaguchi lowered his head and bit his bottom lip, "What's your name?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Ah, I mean—

"Tsukishima." He took a sip of his drink and set it down, pushing his glasses up, "And although your normal voice sounds like a dying chicken…you have a wonderful singing voice."

Yamaguchi's eyes widened and he laughed through his nose, for the first time in a few months, maybe even a year, "Thank you, I guess."

Tsukishima ordered another strawberry soda and vodka cocktail. _A sweet tooth, huh_. Yamaguchi continued to sip his own drink, musing over the strange warmth in his chest and the persistent desire to know more about Tsukishima. He turned his torso and knees towards him, granted it was thanks to the alcohol calming his nerves a bit, and unreservedly stared at him. The man was tall, fit, and exuded a confident and nonchalant aura; his mysteriousness made people want to pry but the chilling indifference pushed everyone away. He also had long fingers and clean, short nails. Yamaguchi couldn't help but think how nice it'd be to have Tsukishima's hands running down his back and tugging at his clothes. Yamaguchi shook his head, his own thoughts embarrassing enough to bring a blush to his cheeks.

"How old are you?"

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, "You sure like asking stupid questions. I'm 27."

"So am I."

"I see."

Yamaguchi finished his drink in a gulp and nervously tapped the glass with his finger, fearing that Tsukishima was getting bored of him. "What do you do for work?"

"None of your business."

"Oh. Sorry…Um, I guess I should lea—

"You're not bothering me." Tsukishima muttered, "You just talk too much."

"Sor—

"And apologize too much."

Yamaguchi took a deep breath and exhaled as he hid his face in the curve of his arm. His face was burning up, probably as a result of the alcohol in combination with his current interaction, and his heartbeat was uneven. But he was feeling brave. Yamaguchi raised his gaze and looked up at Tsukishima through his eyelashes, lips slightly parted.

Tsukishima's eyes traced his lips, "Your face is annoying me."

"S-Sorry—

"That's not what I mean." Tsukishima clicked his tongue, "Your expression…you look like you want to ask me something else. Just spit it out."

 _ **My demons are begging me to open up my mouth. I need them, mechanically make the words come out.**_

Yamaguchi tucked some hair behind his ear and burrowed holes into the wooden counter, the question coming out as a tiny whisper, "Do you want to get out of here?"

Tsukishima cocked his head to the side, a sly grin playing out on his face, "Yeah."

* * *

At Yamaguchi's somewhat dubious request, they took the train and walked to a motel a few stations away. The pastel, two-floor motel was a block from the station, lighting up a dark, abandoned corner lined with fenced trees. They walked to the front counter and a chubby guy with chestnut hair greeted them, eyes lighting up by the rarity of a gay couple. Tsukishima took charge, figuring that Yamaguchi would be too nervous to even say one word, and asked for a room for the night. Yamaguchi quietly slid Tsukishima a few bills to cover half of the room cost. Tsukishima paid, snatched the room keys with a piercing glare at the over-excited cashier guy, and walked down the hall in search of room twenty-three. Yamaguchi toddled behind, biting his thumbnail, obviously sobering up, and eyes stuck to the floor. It was just a bit endearing how quickly he could shift from somewhat confident to a puddle of nerves. Tsukishima unlocked the door and looked behind him as he opened it, making sure Yamaguchi hadn't wandered somewhere else. They took off their shoes and walked in, Yamaguchi closing the door behind him and leaning on it while playing with the strap of his bag, pensive, worried, and face flushed.

 _ **White sheets, bright lights, crooked teeth, and the nightlife. You told me this this is right where it begins.**_

"You can back out of this, you know." Tsukishima stated, setting his bag down by the side of the bed. "It'd be annoying if you regret this tomorrow."

Yamaguchi shook his head, "No. I want to, it's just…" He took his bag off and walked over to the bed, dropping it near Tsukishima's, "I've never done something this crazy."

"Hm." Tsukishima sat on the edge of the bed, "Just stop overthinking it. You're being stupid."

"Yeah, that's true." Yamaguchi rubbed the back of his neck and glanced over to the bathroom, "I'll go take a shower, then."

Tsukishima's eyes followed Yamaguchi as he scampered to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him. That guy was a mess and a half. So, what the hell was he doing in a motel room getting ready to have sex with this newborn fawn? Tsukishima lay back and stared at the crusty white ceiling, closing his eyes to reimagine Yamaguchi's singing voice. That's what made him so attracted to this stranger. His voice was raspy and ethereal, slipping into the ear and traveling straight down to the base of the chest, grabbing hold there, and resonating from within the listener. Tsukishima was quite proud of his varied taste in music, but he'd never been moved like he had been today. Mostly, it annoyed him, but it also piqued his interest. And he was rarely interested in anything, so he decided to go along with his gut feeling and find out what he really wanted to know: what did this guy sound like when moaning in bed? Not the most natural train of thought, he was quite aware of that, but it was the presiding thought in Tsukishima's head after Yamaguchi finished singing. It made it quite obvious that he'd been cooped up at home for way too long. Tsukishima took off his glasses and pinched his nose to try to focus his thoughts again. Hopefully Yamaguchi was good enough in bed to make all this hassle worth it.

The bathroom door creaked open, "All yours."

Yamaguchi awkwardly stood outside the bathroom, arms crossed at his bare chest, towel wrapped around his thin hips, and hair up in a messy bun. Tsukishima put on his glasses and stood up, pacing towards Yamaguchi while pointedly staring him up and down. He had a pretty fit body, though on the thinner side, and tiny freckles dusted every inch of his skin, clustering on his shoulder and back. Tsukishima couldn't help but think that it was unique, and strangely beautiful. He circled around Yamaguchi, tracing the trembling contours of his collarbone, shoulder, and shoulder blades with his index finger. Yamaguchi also had hickies and bruises speckled on his tan skin.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Tsukishima questioned, voice low and monotone.

Yamaguchi ducked his head, "Yeah…though I'm positive he's fucking some girl right now."

"What a shitty relationship."

"Exactly."

Tsukishima withdrew his hand and shrugged, walking into the bathroom, "I don't care either way."

When he came out of the shower, Yamaguchi was leaning on the backboard of the bed while sitting crossed-legged and staring holes into the closest wall. Although his ability to zone out at absolutely any moment, giving him a somewhat air-headed demeanor, was both irritating and cute, it wasn't helping the already lacking mood in the least. Tsukishima slammed the bathroom door behind him, startling Yamaguchi back to the present, and silently made his way to the bed after dimming the lights. He climbed on the nearest side of the bed, the springs of the mattress creaking in the palpable tension, Yamaguchi's shaky breath becoming more audible the closer he inched, and he placed a gentle hand on Yamaguchi's cheek as he leaned in to kiss him. Yamaguchi's lips were quivering, just like the rest of him, and Tsukishima broke away with a sigh only moments after their lips touched.

"You're making me feel like I am forcing you to do this."

"You're not!" Yamaguchi furrowed his eyebrows, "I'm just excited and nervous. It's the first time I've been with someone other than my…boyfriend in a long time."

Tsukishima nodded and slid his hand down to Yamaguchi's neck, every millimeter drawn-out as he leaned in again, this time letting Yamaguchi's impatience ramp up enough that he was the one to close the distance between them. Yamaguchi's soft lips were still quivering, but they determinedly glided on Tsukishima's, settling into a calm as the kiss proceeded. Their mouths gently opened and closed against each other and Yamaguchi worked up enough courage to slide his hand to the back of Tsukishima's hair, just letting it sit there as the tension melted from their bodies. Tsukishima prodded his tongue into Yamaguchi's mouth and slid it against the rough, warm surface of Yamaguchi's tongue, slowly, carefully, savoring every flick Yamaguchi welcomed him with.

 _ **But your lips hang heavy underneath me.**_

Yamaguchi vigorously pressed his lips against Tsukishima's, his tongue tracing teeth and every corner of the blonde's mouth it could reach, his hand digging further into the mass of soft, golden hair, and his free hand playing with the loosening towel on Tsukishima's waist. Yamaguchi was a better kisser than his clumsy demeanor made him out to be, but still, there was room for improvement. Tsukishima feathered his other hand to the small of Yamaguchi's back and guided him closer, scooting himself back to lean on the backboard and hinting that Yamaguchi straddle him. Yamaguchi shifted a leg to the other side of Tsukishima's, towel falling off in the process, and bashfully kneeled right in front of him, hovering, unsure whether to sit on him right then. _He was so damn awkward._ But Tsukishima paid it no mind; those knees would be giving out soon anyway.

Tsukishima took off his foggy glasses, placed them on the nightstand, and moved the complimentary condoms and lube to arms-reach on the bed. Yamaguchi watched him, eyes half-lidded and glossy with lust, gaze a bit unsteady, and freckle-spotted cheeks a deep shade of crimson. The dimmed lights highlighted every blushing inch, ears, neck, shoulders, elbows, and even with his shitty vision, Tsukishima was sure he'd never seen a body so lovely. He placed a tender kiss on the thin collarbone, licking his way to the crook of Yamaguchi's neck and sucking harder with every shudder that escaped him. Yamaguchi let out blissful sighs, grasping at Tsukishima's shoulders and biceps, and letting himself sink, their bare skin now flush against each other. He whispered a small protest, reminding Tsukishima to not leave any marks. Albeit a tad bit disgruntled, Tsukishima understood the reality of what seemed to be an overly jealous boyfriend, and focused his attention elsewhere. He slicked a few fingers with lube and slowly circled the outer rim of Yamaguchi's entrance, teasingly pushing in the tip of his middle finger every so often. Yamaguchi curved his back and lewdly raised his ass to give Tsukishima more access, dick already smearing precome on Tsukishima's abs, and face buried in the crook of Tsukishima's neck. But he didn't so much as make a peep that resembled begging; instead, he mouthed at Tsukishima neck, biting and sucking, and dipped his fingers into Tsukishima's towel. This was certainly better than him being a dead fish.

Tsukishima rewarded his brave actions by thrusting in his middle finger and hooking it in search of Yamaguchi's prostate. He figured he found it when in one particular thrust Yamaguchi jerked forward and sunk his teeth deep enough to draw blood, murmuring an apology after Tsukishima cursed under his breath. Tsukishima pulled Yamaguchi off his throbbing neck, beyond bruised and red from all of the clumsy attention, and ducked down to suck on Yamaguchi's nipples, increasing the fingers that were thrusting into him by one. Yamauchi looped his arms around Tsukishima's neck to keep himself steady and met every thrust, tiny gasps and moans leaking out of his parted lips. Yamaguchi's moans were similar to his singing voice: breathy, thick, and absolutely enthralling. They were low, but they filled the air around them, echoed off the walls, and fed the impatience growing in Tsukishima. Everything was unbearably sticky and hot. Tsukishima pulled his fingers out, earning a dissatisfied whimper from Yamaguchi, and reached to the side for a condom. He started to roll it on but Yamaguchi slipped his hands in to hastily help him, and he grabbed the lube to slather on his dick after Yamauchi was done. Once done slicking himself up, he placed a hand on Yamaguchi's waist to help support him while he aligned himself over Tsukishima's dick. Yamaguchi closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip, yet the gasps slipped out as he lowered himself onto Tsukishima, paced, giving his body enough time to get used to his size and shape.

Tsukishima let out a low, muffled moan when he was fully in and pressed his fingers into the skin of Yamaguchi's waist, burying his other hand in Yamaguchi's messy, sweat-dampened hair. Yamaguchi ghosted his lips over Tsukishima's and placed a hand on his shoulder, lifting himself up a bit and then lowering himself with a throaty moan. Tsukishima could see Yamaguchi's expression clearly at this distance and he made sure to keep his eyes open, catching the hazy cloud over Yamaguchi's eyes, the lip biting, and the way his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure when Tsukishima thrust up into him. Their pace was leisurely but forceful, with Tsukishima almost slipping out completely and then slamming back in, consecutively hitting the spot that made Yamaguchi's legs tremble. But it wasn't enough. Yamaguchi clenched Tsukishima's dick, the word 'faster' hesitantly dripping from his lips, and reached down to give attention to the mess by Tsukishima's abs. Tsukishima stopped his hand, gripping the forearm with a steel grip, and licked up all of Yamaguchi's complaints in a sloppy kiss. He quickened his thrusts, the sound of flesh slapping flesh and Yamaguchi's strangled moans enshrouding them.

"T-Tsukishima..c-com—" Yamaguchi gasped, a sharp inhale cutting him off, and his body tensing as he came all over Tsukishima's lower stomach. Tsukishima climaxed shortly after with a husky grunt, fingers digging into Yamaguchi's skin, and he leaned back on the backboard to catch his breath, supporting a panting Yamaguchi with his face snuggled in the crook of his neck yet again. Tsukishima pulled out of Yamaguchi, another of Yamaguchi's sultry gasps filling the air shortly, and they stayed like that until their bodies settled.

Tsukishima cleared his throat, "I want to go shower again. Get off."

"Hm." Yamaguchi replied sleepily, shifting to the side to land on the bed. He turned on his side in fetal position, a few hair strands shadowing his eyes and that perpetual blush on his cheeks, "I'll shower tomorrow morning. Night."

Tsukishima slid off the bed and put on his glasses, taking one last glimpse at Yamaguchi's sleeping figure before heading into the bathroom. He was cute, really fucking cute. And it irritated Tsukishima to no end that he wouldn't have minded going for another round in the shower. He needed very cold water and sleep—his mind was clouded and musing stupid thoughts.

Not that he got much sleep. Since some freckled idiot liked waking up at an ungodly hour.

"Why…" Tsukishima peeked his head out of the covers, squinting up at the smiling guy standing over him, "…Why the fuck are you awake so early?"

Yamaguchi chuckled and slung his bag on his shoulder, "My boyfriend will start checking up on me soon."

"Okay."

"Yesterday was really…nice."

Tsukishima hid his face with the covers again, "Yeah, it was." It really wasn't out of embarrassment, there was barely a bone of that left in his body, it was only because the room was too freaking bright.

"If I give you my number, would you text me?" Yamaguchi mumbled.

"No." That was only a half-truth. But the whole angry boyfriend thing sounded like too much of a hassle.

"I figured." Yamaguchi scribbled down his number on the notepad on top of the nightstand, "I'll give it to you anyway." And after whispering a dejected 'goodbye', he closed the room door behind him.

Tsukishima just sighed and fell right back asleep.

If only things had ended there. All he had to do was stop himself from taking the notepad paper and stuffing it in his pocket as he walked out of the room. But he didn't. He also didn't throw it out in the closest trashcan; instead, he settled with calling himself an idiot and having stupid monologues about his lack of rationality.

He took the subway home, unconsciously patting his pocket ever so often to make sure the paper was still there. It was childish, irresolute, and uncharacteristic of him. Did he or did he not want to see that freckle-dotted idiot again.

 _He did._ Granted, it took him a few restless days to realize that.

Tsukishima would sit in front of his desktop, eyes glued to his monitors, trying to get the numbers and code to comfortably nestle themselves in his brain like they always did, but it was futile. He couldn't even do his fucking job in this mental state. He was a hacker for the Japanese Public Security Intelligence Agency; his job consisted of snooping into business' suspicious activities and periodically trying to hack the government's defense to spot holes and strengthen cyber security. Logical, systematic, and well paying—no job could suit him better.

And his superiors specifically valued his extraordinary ability to focus for long periods of time…something he was having trouble doing thanks to the lucid image of blushing, freckled skin in a dim motel room, and a persistent craving to hear that raspy singing voice.

 _ **And I try to refrain, but you're stuck in my brain.**_

So, just a mere week since their steamy rendezvous and despite promising himself he wouldn't, Tsukishima unwillingly texted Yamaguchi.

 _ **Is there somewhere you can meet me?**_

They worked around Yamaguchi's schedule, making sure to only meet up when his boyfriend was off banging someone or in some shady place getting high.

"I already told you he's my manager, right? Well, he's also a runner for a small mafia family in the prefecture over." Yamaguchi mumbled, grinding his nail on the edge of the bar counter. "He deals marijuana to young people in bars and to private clubs."

"If he gets caught he'll get a lot of years in jail."

"I wish." Yamaguchi spat, "But…I wonder what I'd do with myself if that actually happened."

Tsukishima looked away, "Who knows, be less stupid about your romantic relationships?"

"Yeah…"Yamaguchi tucked a bit of hair behind his ear and snickered, "That seems to be a bit impossible for me."

That was the usual nature of their conversations at the bar: dreary, sarcastic, and usually about Yamaguchi's sad-excuse-for-a-human-being boyfriend. Tsukishima didn't mind the one-sidedness, though his disdain was growing with every mention of the boyfriend's name, and he preferred listening to Yamaguchi babble than answer all of his nosy questions. It was only for an hour or so, anyway. Their routine was to get a few drinks in, then walk over to the familiar pastel motel and have sex until they were completely spent. Pleasurable and mutually beneficial—a transaction where Tsukishima could release stress, get some human interaction, and calm his libido, and Yamaguchi could vent about his boyfriend, and enjoy gentle sex. It was a deal, and it was precisely because they were desperately trying to keep it unemotional that they never cuddled or talked about anything meaningful pertaining to both of them. That's all it was, or at least, all it should have been.

The emotional shift began on a Friday night, the second month into their ambiguous and truly unhealthy relationship. They skipped the bar and headed straight to the motel, but instead of having sex like was part of that unsaid promise, Tsukishima just silently held a bruised, sobbing Yamaguchi in his arms. He knew he was diving too deep, getting involved in a mess he wasn't ready to deal with, but he couldn't help himself. When it came to Yamaguchi, he forgot what being indifferent felt like. Tsukishima carded his fingers through Yamaguchi's silky hair and planted soft kisses on his forehead. Yamaguchi's crying quieted to tiny sniffles and he buried his face further into Tsukishima's chest, humming the song that had moved Tsukishima so many nights ago. Broken, breathy, and cynical, by now Tsukishima understood that the song was about Ryouji; it was an embodiment of all the agony he's caused Yamaguchi.

And even more than the first time, it made Tsukishima's heart clench painfully.

 ** _I'm trying not to let it show, that I don't want to let this go._**

They started to cuddle after having sex—purposely ignorant of the boundaries they were crossing. Tsukishima liked the feeling of Yamaguchi's soft breath on his bare chest and the way he slightly shuddered when Tsukishima ran his hand up his spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. Yamaguchi would sigh blissfully and nuzzle closer, nose tickling the base of Tsukishima's neck. There were even times, especially if he was nursing new bruises, that Yamaguchi would sing in that position, voice reverberating in his chest and Tsukishima's palm feeling every contraction that it took to produce such a beautiful sound. That voice would ring in his ears for days, and Tsukishima was finding it harder and harder to distract himself from it.

"Tsukki."

Somewhere in the third month, Yamaguchi murmured that nickname with a devious smile. Tsukishima didn't hate it so he just looked off to the side, catching a glimpse of a satisfied grin in his peripheral vision. They were sitting on the bed, backs against the backboard, with Yamaguchi resting his head on Tsukishima's shoulder. He was writing something into a blue leather notebook, music most likely, and would hum to himself occasionally.

"New song?"

Yamaguchi nodded, his head rubbing against Tsukishima's shoulder, "It's about us."

"Oh." Tsukishima leaned his head back and closed his eyes; his face felt hot.

He was anxious. Every time Yamaguchi looked at him like he wanted to tell him something, eyebrows deeply furrowed and gnawing at his bottom lip, he'd look away, finger pads pressed against each other. _Don't say it._

They spooned on the bed, Yamaguchi's back flush against Tsukishima's chest and their hands tangled by Yamaguchi's stomach. Their hands idly traced each other's contours and rough patches, as if they couldn't already draw every crevices of the other's hand with their mind, the surface well seared into their memories. Tsukishima usually hated to be around people, but Yamaguchi was different— he felt essential, and Tsukishima had grown to love moments like this even more than sex. He nestled closer to Yamaguchi's vanilla-scented hair and placed a chaste kiss on the back of his neck. There were too many nights that he had stared at this spot and connected all the freckles as if they were hidden stars, the moonlight as his guide. He knew this body so well he had favorite freckles and he made it a habit to secretly kiss each of them when they had sex, though he was positive Yamauchi had caught on by now.

 _ **I'm sorry but I fell in love tonight.**_

"Tsukki?"

He could pretend he was asleep and enjoy this night without feeling like he swallowed a rock. But that would only push Yamaguchi to mention it in the morning, when the room was bright enough for him to see Tsukishima's face.

"What?"

Yamaguchi tensed up and squeezed Tsukishima's hand, as if he wasn't expecting a response and had to scramble for courage he never had in the first place. "…I-If I told you that I wanted us to stop this, what would you say?"

"This kind of question is very typical of you."

"Why."

Tsukishima sighed, "Because you're putting me first. If I told you I wanted us to continue this, you'd do it. Even if you know that's the riskier option, right?"

"Yeah."

"And if I told you I wanted us to stop because it's getting bothersome, you'd stop seeing me."

"Y-Yeah." Yamaguchi muffled, voice a bit shaky, "So, which one would you say?"

Tsukishima tightened his embrace, "I'd lie."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"You should know the answer by now, idiot."

 _ **I didn't mean to fall in love tonight.**_

* * *

Two weeks had passed since he last saw Tsukishima. Ryouji had increased the promotional performances, going as far as to book them in other prefectures, so Yamaguchi had absolutely no way of getting out of his sight for more than a few minutes. It was suffocating. Yamaguchi had no idea how he put up with this before he met Tsukishima. Sure, he always had his music to console him, but that gentle, warm body with very dry humor made him feel like he was on cloud nine. But that exactly was the problem—he was becoming too dependent. How long until Tsukishima got sick of him and his shitty situation? And then there was the growing issue of Ryouji's mercy and prudence deteriorating exponentially by the day.

"Ryouji…"

Yamaguchi sat at the edge of the wooden desk and messed with his cuticles while staring holes into Ryouji's back. They were in the tiny, cluttered office adjoined to Ryouji's decently sized recording studio, where they often met up for Ryouji to scream at him, coerce him into having sex, or very occasionally talk about their plans for the future. But that last one was rare; Ryouji never told him anything.

"Ryouji."

"What?" He spat, turning his attention from the cabinet to Yamaguchi, "You're going to waste my name."

Yamaguchi looked down at his hands, "You haven't given me this month's stipend…I need to pay the bills and buy food."

Ryouji raised an eyebrow, "You know, about that. How about you just come live with me? I can take care of paying all your bills and food. It saves us more money that way."

"H-Huh?" Yamaguchi shook his head, "No, I'd rather not."

"Why not?" He placed a heavy hand on Yamaguchi's shoulder, "You know, you've been off for the last few weeks. There is this weird look in your eye."

Yamaguchi squeezed his bag strap, his eyes looking everywhere but at Ryouji's face, "I've been the same."

"No you haven't. Look at me."

Yamaguchi gulped, "I-

"Look at me!" He yelled, grabbing Yamaguchi by the back of his hair and forcing him to face him, "I'm not stupid, you know. You've been humming to yourself. What are you so happy about, huh?"

"N-Nothing, I promise, nothing."

"Listen well." Ryouji pulled Yamaguchi closer to the cabinet, patting the top shelf with his free hand, and he took out a document, "You remember this, right? It's your fucking contract. You are my property."

Yamaguchi yanked Ryouji's hand out of his hair and took a few steps back, "Please…stop being so rough."

"Oh?' Ryouji laughed, his voice tight, "You think you can order me around now." He rolled his shoulder, slowly, not once taking his steely eyes off of Yamaguchi, "You've grown a pair of balls recently, haven't you." And suddenly he stepped forward, swinging his hand to slap Yamaguchi so hard that it sent him tumbling to the floor.

"Pl—" Yamaguchi sputtered, holding his aching cheek with his hand, "Please, s-stop."

"You still have that look in your eye." Ryouji got on all fours over Yamaguchi, wrapping his arms around his neck and pushing him to lay flat on the floor, "A look of disgust."

Yamaguchi clawed at his hands, nails cutting skin and drawing blood, but they were only getting tighter. The man that was crouching over him was almost a stranger. His face was puffy and red, teeth snarling like some animal, and his eyes were unfocused.

"Ryo—"

Ryouji was crushing his windpipe. Yamaguchi tried hitting Ryouji's arms with his hands and slapping his face, but he wouldn't budge. His vision was starting to get hazy and he could feel the strength slowly leave his limbs. If he didn't do anything, Ryouji was going to kill him right here. _He had to do something_. Yamaguchi tensed his arm and jabbed his palm straight up, hitting Ryouji in the nose with the heel of his hand. Ryouji reeled back, cursing in anger, and in that moment Yamaguchi pulled his leg from underneath him and kicked him in the groin with all the strength he could muster. Then he got up, grabbed the contract from the table, and ran out of the office at full speed.

Every breath felt like fire but he kept running until he reached the closest train station. He jogged to the taxi parking and opened the door, sliding himself inside. He told the driver to drive away from the area for now and dialed Tsukishima's number.

"Yamaguchi?"

"Tsukki…" He sobbed, the adrenaline leaving his body and shock taking its place, "I-I need to see you. Please."

"Sure. Of course, I'll text you my address. But are you okay?"

Yamaguchi rubbed his eyes, "Y-Yeah, for now. I'll explain when I see you."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

The drive was around forty minutes and Yamaguchi sighed with relief when the cash that was left in his bag was just enough to cover the ride. He thanked the driver and closed the door, taking his time to climb the steps of the apartment complex. He was pathetic and had to yet again trouble Tsukishima with his problems. What if this time around Tsukishima said he had enough already? Yamaguchi mused his hair with a groan and dialed the numbers of Tsukishima's apartment into the intercom. _Tsukishima wouldn't do that._

"Here."

Yamaguchi grabbed the cooling pack from Tsukishima's hand with a tiny smile, "Thanks."

"So…" Tsukishima sat in front of Yamaguchi on the bed, legs crossed, "What did the asshole do this time?"

"He strangled me." Yamaguchi muttered, tears brimming his eyes.

"What?" Tsukishima softly lifted Yamaguchi's chin up and clicked his tongue at the bruised, freckled neck. "Leave him."

Yamaguchi took Tsukishima's hand away from his chin and squeezed it, "I want to. I even stole the contract from him. But he also has a scan of it on the office computer."

"You stole the contract? Where is it?"

"In my bag."

Tsukishima brushed the hair away from Yamaguchi's eyes, "Perfect. We'll burn it later. Just leave the rest to me." He stood up from his bed and walked the few steps to his desktop, "This job is right up my alley."

"Huh? Up your alley?" Yamaguchi followed Tsukishima, looking over his shoulder at the monitors, "Your computer is so fancy."

"That's because I'm a hacker for the government."

Yamaguchi chuckled, "No way, you're kidding…right?"

"No."

"Okay…" Yamaguchi returned to the bed, laying down on his side while watching Tsukishima type away at his keyboard, "What are you planning to do?"

"I'm going to send that asshole an email as if it was from you. When he clicks the link that's supposedly going to give him your current location, my virus will be installed. Once I am in, I can erase the contract scan and mess with him in any way I please."

"Wow. That's amazing Tsukki." Yamaguchi shuffled around, burying himself under the covers, "But…what am I going to do after that? He'll kill me next time he sees me."

"Don't worry about it. Just take a nap; you're distracting me."

"Hm." Yamaguchi closed his eyes and let the clacking of the keyboard lull him to sleep.

He woke up to the covers rustling and mattress creaking under Tsukishima's weight. The room was pitch black, but since Tsukishima never opened his window shades, it could be any time of the day. Yamaguchi made space for Tsukishima and cuddled close to him, face nuzzled in his warm chest, the soothing melody of Tsukishima's heartbeats syncing with his own.

"What time is it?" Yamaguchi whispered.

"3 A.M. But I was able to destroy the scan and any other records he had of yours. You're free."

Yamaguchi shifted up and placed a kiss on Tsukishima's lips; they tasted like coffee, "Thank you so much."

"Also, " Tsukishima opened his eyes, golden irises shinning brightly in the darkness, "I sent some emails and personal pictures as proof of Ryouji distributing marijuana to a friend of mine in the police department. He's probably getting arrested as of now."

"Seriously?" Yamaguchi pressed his forehead to Tsukishima's, "I mean, I'm happy that I'm free. But I'm officially unemployed."

"You're stupid." Tsukishima muttered sleepily, his lips forming a small smirk.

"Hey, I'm really worried here you meanie."

Tsukishima pulled Yamaguchi down to his chest again and placed a long kiss on his forehead; "I'll take care of you until you're back on your feet. For now, lets take a vacation to my uncle's place in Kyoto. I haven't taken a vacation in years and I have a ton of money saved up."

"You must be talking in your sleep." Yamaguchi gasped, as if that was the only explanation for Tsukishima's strange suggestion.

"…I'm going to kick you. You need to get out of this area for now. Do you have family you can stay with?"

Yamaguchi played with the hem of Tsukishima's shirt, "No. They disowned me a few years back."

"Well, you're stuck with me, then. I'll pull some connections and we'll head out tomorrow."

"What about the other logistics?" Yamaguchi chuckled, "My passport and clothes? They're at my apartment."

Tsukishima groaned, "I'll go get them after we've confirmed the asshole is in jail. Now shut up. I want to sleep."

"Okay." Yamaguchi sniffled, "Thank you, Tsukki."

Tsukishima sighed, "And now you're crying. Does your dense head finally understand how much I love you?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Tsukishima's skin smelled like home.

Finally, he found it.


	2. Epilogue

Disclaimer: All the bolded, italicized words in the fic are from Halsey's songs, Hurricane and Drive. I highly suggest listening to them if you want to get the full vibe of the fic. I made a playlist here: playlist?list=PL74BfVVr1pYxn9Z6ZWBrgkPiFPFiBZDOj

Yamaguchi held the microphone lightly, teasingly, and his mossy brown eyes darted to the head of pale blonde seated in the usual spot: front row, three seats from the left.

 **And there's a storm you're starting now.**

Yamaguchi _relished_ those words. His voice low, raspy, and dripping with emotion as he twirled the microphone cord around his finger, body rocking and grooving ever so slightly. His gaze was steady through the wispy eyelashes he slowly batted at Tsukishima in that endearing, and also excessively flirtatious kind of way. _It was an inside joke_. At the very least Yamaguchi was trying to get a smirk out of the guy. No one but the two of them could tell that this song was written about a previous rendition of their relationship, a ghost in a dark closet of what they have now. The rest of the audience had not a lick of context to the weight each word held. Yet, Yamaguchi drew each word to the tip of his tongue and played with them as if they weighed absolutely nothing. This Yamaguchi no longer sang from the pain festering in his heart—Tsukishima had healed it all.

And so, the modulation of his voice was now full of blissful sighs. The depth in his range coming from the tender loving of pale, cold hands that warmed against his skin. And this strength…this was something he would have never known if it weren't for Tsukishima.

 **I'm the violence in the pouring rain. I'm a hurricane.**

Yamaguchi let his voice come to a whisper, and with the final beats of the drum his lips curled into a tiny, mischievous smile. He glanced around the packed bar filled with familiar fans, and some new ones, and brought the microphone back up to his lips.

"For my old fans out there, I hope you enjoyed that throwback. And for my new fans, well, if I made any tonight…" He chuckled awkwardly, but earned a reassuring applause from some audience members, "I hope to see you at more of my shows. Thank you for coming out to see me tonight!"

He folded into a deep bow and waved goodbye at the audience. He then hooked the microphone to its stand, turning around to thank his guitarist, Kageyama, and his tiny little drummer, Hinata. He only found them around a year ago when he was auditioning people to play for him. Luckily the odd couple auditioned together, and though their bickering had derailed countless of rehearsals, they have become close friends and wonderful band mates. It also helped that this couple, was in fact a _couple_ (though a weird one). The memories of the rowdy and usually chaotic double dates they've been on always brought a smile to Yamaguchi's face. These people were the family he's never had.

"Thanks you guys! You sounded great as usual," Yamaguchi raved as he walked towards the two.

Hinata threw his arms around what he could reach of Yamaguchi with that signature ear-to-ear smile of his, "And you did too! You even danced a bit for the last one."

"Yeah," Yamaguchi ruffled his vibrant orange hair. It always blew his mind that this lively, hamster-like person was actually older than him. "I was entranced by the beats you were playing, Hinata."

Kageyama grabbed Hinata by the back of his shirt collar and pulled him away from Yamaguchi, "Stop cuddling up to him so much. He must be exhausted."

"Oh, just say you were jealous." Hinata snickered and grabbed Kageyama's face, landing a very audible kiss on his cheek, "I'll give you attention too if you just ask."

Kageyama placed his hand over Hinata's face and shoved him away, "Don't get me started, Shouyou. I'll make you regret it tonight.

"Okay you guys, too much information," Yamaguchi laughed and he reached behind the drum set for his bag. "Save that for when it's just you two."

"Don't even!" Hinata set his hand on his hips and arched his eyebrow. "Don't think that we didn't notice you flirting with Tsukishima during your entire performance."

"Crap." Yamaguchi fiddled with his leather choker, "Was I really that obvious?"

Kageyama nodded, "You are very bad at hiding things."

"But don't worry!" Hinata assured, patting Yamaguchi on the back and pushing him towards the edge of the stage, "I'm sure only we noticed. Also, you are dilly-dallying. Tsukishima looks about ready to drag you away."

Yamaguchi hopped off the stage, "Well I'll leave all the clean up and stuff in your hands. Thanks again." He gave them a wide, close-eyed grin and pointed at the silver band on his left ring finger, "When I'm back this thing will be a little more official."

Hinata whistled, "That lamppost is a jerk but since he makes you happy, I'll wish you the best! Make sure you don't chicken out."

Yamaguchi nodded, giving them a final wave, and ambled to where Tsukishima was sitting. He watched every step Yamaguchi took towards him completely silent, palms pressed against each other in thought. _Tsukishima was always thinking_. If there was anything that had changed in the last two years of their relationship, it was Yamaguchi's polished aim when it came to guessing what went on in his boyfriend's genius, over-active mind. And concerning Tsukishima's current worry…well, Yamaguchi had a very strong hunch. But he was waiting to see if Tsukishima would ever bring it up himself.

"Kei."

Tsukishima stood up and placed a soft hand at the side of Yamaguchi's neck, his thumb softly caressing Yamaguchi's jawline, "You sounded great."

Yamaguchi bit his bottom lip, cheeks flushed, "I don't know how you aren't tired of my songs. You never miss a show."

"Your voice is something I could never get tired of." Tsukishima withdrew his hand; his fingers now rolling between them the skinny braids scattered through the bottom half of Yamaguchi's shoulder length hair, "Let's go. We needed to be on the road fifteen minutes ago."

Yamaguchi nodded, threaded his fingers with Tsukishima's, and followed him out of the bar. The early summer air was warm, but with a gentle breeze that kept it from feeling stifling. Since it was a bit before 7pm the sky was still a clear, dusty dark blue. They walked to the corner of the block, took a right, and easily spotted Tsukishima's shiny black convertible—it almost painfully stuck out among the boxy suvs and mini vans. Really, it's not like he was _trying_ to be pretentious or anything like that. Two years back when both of them decided to move to this warm little costal town of Matsuyama, Tsukishima thought it would best if he finally bought a car instead of occasionally renting one. They were looking at car models and Yamaguchi had jokingly suggested this Infiniti Q60 convertible because it 'would be great in their new subtropical climate'. _Tsukishima actually took him seriously_. And even though he doesn't drive around in it too often, mostly saving it for occasions where they need to go far or are taking a little trip, he has gotten quite attached to it.

Tsukishima unlocked the car and they both hopped in, Yamaguchi throwing his bag on top of their other bags in the back seat. Tsukishima started the engine and held down the button near the shift gear to open up the roof and store the hardtop into the trunk. Yamaguchi pushed the passenger seat back a bit to accommodate his legs and raised his arms in the air like a little kid.

"We haven't driven with the roof off in forever." He snapped his seatbelt on and tuned the radio to his favorite rock and indie station, "How long does it take us to get to Hotel Iya Onsen? Their hot spring is opened 24 hours, right, because that's the first thing I want to do when we get there."

Tsukishima buckled himself in and pulled out of the parking, "Yeah, it's only closed for an hour around 10 am. It'll take us about 2 hours. I called them an hour ago to tell them we would be checking in at nine."

Yamaguchi leaned forward to set the GPS, "Hotel Iya Onsen...the GPS says about two hours and nine minutes."

"Okay, good."

And so, their road trip started.

Their destination was Shibuya, Tokyo. And the trip itself wasn't going to be complicated: they were splitting ten or so hours of driving between two days and stopping at a few inns and fun tourist locations a long the way. What was truly complicated was the reason for their road trip: _marriage_. Or at least, the closest thing to same-sex marriage Japan currently had to offer, the _special partnership certificate_.

It was a domino effect of sort. The first domino fell about a year ago, when Tsukishima had gotten on one knee in their living room, face a vivid red, hands shaking, and displayed a silver ring while asking, "Do you want to grow old together"? The tears instantaneously fell from Yamaguchi's eyes and he sunk down to the floor, trying to sputter out a 'yes' though all of his sobbing. Tsukishima's lips broke into a smile and he took Yamaguchi's hand, gently sliding the ring onto Yamaguchi's finger, and bringing his boyfriend's tear-stained face into his chest. Tsukishima held him until his chest stop heaving and breath calmed into a steady pace. But Yamaguchi's eyes never got the chance to dry because right there, in the middle of their living room, he continued to hold him until his skin became hot and he was crying out for a different reason.

The next few dominos fell in subtle ways: talk about adopting a cat, their desire to do a trip since it had been a while, both of them becoming more comfortable with displaying their relationship in public, and finally, the way in which they were always planning for and referencing a future in which they were together. _Neither had the intention of ever letting the other go_. And this is why Yamaguchi sat Tsukishima down one day and suggested they go to Shibuya to get a special partnership certificate. He rambled on about how they could make it a fun road trip, and that even if the certificate didn't do too much since it wasn't legally binding, it'd still feel good to get it. Tsukishima pushed his glasses up and furrowed his eyebrows in a brief moment of thought. He then locked eyes with Yamaguchi and answered a simple, "Yes, let's do it."

They sat on it for a few months, occasionally discussing the places they wanted to visit and the day that would suit them best. And every so often Tsukishima would mumble 'is it enough' to himself and completely avoid explaining what the phrase meant when Yamaguchi inquired. _What wasn't enough?_ It was puzzling because Yamaguchi had no doubt Tsukishima wanted to get the certificate; if he didn't we would have made a point to tell Yamaguchi by now. He was always blunt about what displeased him. The only thing that he still had trouble voicing at this point in their relationship was his fears and his insecurities. He never wanted to seem weak. And though there were visual cues Yamaguchi had learned, like the way he pressed his fingers to form a triangle, or when he averted his eyes and fiddled with things, Tsukishima was never truly honest when it came to his own vulnerability. At first Yamaguchi would let Tsukishima go at his own pace and with time, a bit too much time, he would awkwardly reveal what was troubling him. Yes it took some poking and cooing from Yamaguchi to get him to talk, but it would happen.

But in this case…it was two months and Tsukishima still hadn't said a word. And Yamaguchi could tell in the moments when his eyebrows furrowed unexpectedly, and he would stare at a spot in the floor for long periods of time, that he was musing with this heavy thought that has been weighing him down. Yamaguchi wanted to shoulder some of that burden, but having a serious conversation about it would be too heavy-handed. So he decided on a cheekier approach.

"You've been awfully pensive these past weeks." Yamaguchi whispered as he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached for his bag in the back seat, "You still don't want to talk about it?"

"Not really." Tsukishima kept his eyes on the road but Yamaguchi could see his thumbs tapping the steering wheel.

"Okay then, Mr. Mysterious. I'm going to write some lyrics for a bit. I've been working on a new song recently." Yamaguchi took out his small blue notebook and pen, "Do you want to guess what it's about."

Tsukishima glanced at Yamaguchi for a second and then returned his eyes to the dark expanse in front of them, "You're going to tell me even if I don't guess."

"You're no fun." Yamaguchi smirked and looked down at the page he was working on, "But even if I don't tell you, I think you'll get the message."

"What do you mean by that?"

"It means I'm writing this song for you."

Tsukishima sighed, "Can't you just tell me? Why bother writing a song for it."

"Well, you also have things you're having difficulty talking to me about, right?" Yamaguchi tapped his pen on the paper, "This is easier for me."

Tsukishima grew completely quiet. He knew Yamaguchi was right, and was probably berating himself for taking this long to explain what was troubling him. But Yamaguchi didn't want him to feel bad; he just wanted Tsukishima to rely on him more and feel less afraid to show his weak side. Yamaguchi brought his knees to his chest and rested his left cheek on them, his glossy eyes steady on Tsukishima's face.

 **Your hands wrapped around the stick shift…** His voice was almost a whisper, but he knew Tsukishima could hear him. He hummed the melody to the parts he still didn't know the words of and sang that parts he did, **I can never keep my eyes off this.** Yamaguchi took his time with the words—the sound was velvety and sincere, but also playful in that way he knew drove his boyfriend crazy.

"That's the first verse, kind of. I still am figuring out the rest." Yamaguchi grinned, "Did you like it?"

"I love anything you sing." Tsukishima took a right into a narrow road and a lit up inn came into plain sight, "We're here."

Check-in was quick and seamless. By the time they were taking off their clothes and slipping on their yukatas in order to head to the public open aired bath, they had only been in the inn for about fifteen minutes. The inn was breathtaking, with wide windows that displayed the beautiful mountainside, traditional light brown wood everywhere their eyes could land on, and the scent of nature seeping into every corner.

They ambled to that night's designated public male bath: the keikoku no yu. After leaving all their belongings in the changing room, they washed themselves in the shower area, and with only tiny towels at hand, they opened the door to the outside bath. Yamaguchi laughed excitedly, commenting on how beautiful it was. It had flat rock flooring and only two thick bamboo bars that separated them from the river flowing right outside the inn. Because it was summer, the air was quite humid, but in a pleasant way similar to that of a sauna. They were completely alone so Yamaguchi grabbed Tsukishima's hand and pulled him along into the shallow bath, letting a blissful sigh slip from his lips once his body was completely submerged in the hot water. It felt heavenly and rejuvenating, like the heat from the water was melting away every knot of stress in their muscles. It also should have been a bit romantic; after all they were alone and naked in a warm bath, surrounded with the beauty of nature. But it wasn't because Tsukishima was a dork and though his glasses were fogged up, he didn't make any effort to take them off his face. Yamaguchi moved closer to him, shifting his glasses so they rested on top of their hand and giving him a clear view of what was around him. Tsukishima didn't verbally thank Yamaguchi; instead he searched the water for his left hand and kissed the finger with the silver ring on it. He then silently pulled him closer to the edge of the bath so they could lean against the wall and sit in the water next to each other. _Tsukishima was a man of few words, but very purposeful and powerful actions_. And with every new gesture Tsukishima showed him, Yamaguchi couldn't help but fall deeper in love.

They stayed in the bath for about thirty minutes and then Tsukishima complained that he was starting to get light headed, so they returned to their room. They pushed together the futons that had been set out and slipped under them before the air-conditioning could steal the bath-induced warmth from their bodies. Naturally, they found each other under the covers, soft lips on soft lips, and hands snaking into yakatas. From day one, everything about the way they embraced and pleasured each other had been on instinct, guided by the magnetism shared between their bodies. And even after these two years with countless gasped names and strained moans, their desire for each other has only strengthened. To say the least, _they didn't get much sleep that night_.

Morning came faster than they would have liked it, but with groans and complaints they got up for breakfast. It was traditional-style, with delectable smoked salmon, rice, and pickled side dishes. After eating their fill, they returned to their room to change and pack up their bags. They then thanked the staff and went on their way. Their plan was to visit a few places on their four-hour drive to an inn in Arashiyama, a town in the Kyoto prefecture.

Their first pit stop was Naruto, in the Tokushima prefecture. The drive was smooth, and Yamaguchi mostly spent it working on his lyrics and humming in the enjoyable, sunny weather. Tsukishima _still_ hadn't said a word about what was bothering him, but Yamaguchi figured he'd get it out of him sooner or later. The main reason to visit Naruto was because the name was nostalgic of a show they both hesitantly admitted liking when they were younger, but also because the town was known for its amazing whirlpools. Once they got into the quaint little town, they parked the car and walked around its narrow streets. The town had two distinguished museums, one for war history and the other known to be the biggest art exhibition space in Japan, but neither of them were all that interested in actually entering the museums so they simply observed them momentarily from outside. After about an hour of walking around and buying matching string bracelets (on Yamaguchi's sappy request), they popped into a local ramen shop to get the town special: miso ramen with a ton of narutomaki. _It was freaking delicious_.

They strolled around for about twenty more minutes to digest the food and then got in their car again to head for the Naruto Bridge, where the whirlpools could be spotted. The bridge was a steel light blue and spanned hundreds of miles, stretching over the straight between Tokushima and the neighboring island, Awaji. It felt endless, as if time had stopped right there. Midway across the bridge they pulled over and walked to the railing with hands linked. There they silently observed the whirlpools' bottomless blue-green and their violent vitality. At one point Tsukishima pulled Yamaguchi closer and hugged him from behind, landing a gentle kiss on the side of his neck. Yamaguchi purred happily and suggested they take a picture before they started driving again. Tsukishima agreed, even though he hated pictures, and pulled out his phone. They leaned their backs on the railing and snapped a selfie of their content faces, as well as the angry whirlpools hundreds of feet below them.

"Is it weird that I found the whirlpools a bit terrifying?" Yamaguchi mumbled about an hour after they crossed the Naruto Bridge.

"No, since if you fell in there it would kill you. Humans are meant to be afraid of nature."

"That's true…Hey, Kei," Yamaguchi cooed and kept his eyes on his notebook, "What do I have to do to get you to talk to me?"

"Nothing. It's not like I'm planning to keep it from your forever. I just need to sort a few things out in my head first."

"But we can do that together."

"No, I don't want to drag you into my messy thoughts."

"Because you love me?" Yamaguchi smirked.

Tsukishima sighed, "Yes, because I love you too much."

"You love me way too gently…I'm not as fragile as I was before, you know." Yamaguchi licked his lips, closed his eyes, and with a wicked smile looked up at the brilliant sky.

 **All we do is drive. All we do is think about the feelings that we hide. All we do is sit in silence waiting for a sign, sick and full of pride, all we do is drive.**

His delivery was slow and breathy, but grounded. Even with the wind blowing their hair back as they sped down this highway, the words stayed there, hanging in the air between them. It was Yamaguchi's gentle scolding, but also an ache for something more transparent and saccharine than what they already had. _Was it really that strange to want to drown in one another_? This inch wide gap between their minds and hearts felt like an endless rift.

"Okay…" Tsukishima relented in a strained voice. "We'll talk about it tonight. I'll tell you everything."

"Good," Yamaguchi beamed and leaned back on his seat. _His song had reached him_.

Next, they stopped in Kobe, in the Hyogo Prefecture. This long and narrow costal city was known to be expensive, but also have the most high-class, best quality beef Japan had to offer. Of course, they were there mostly for the meat. But before they sat down to have a dinner that would leave a nice hole in their pocket, they decided to hit a few of the tourist spots. The first was the red steel Port Tower where they were able to get a mesmerizing view of all of Kobe. And Yamaguchi yet again bought more useless trinkets. Then they headed to the Ferris wheel near the popular shopping district, Harborland, and paid a ridiculously overpriced fee for an even more ridiculously sappy fifteen minutes. Yamaguchi went all out—hands intertwined and his head resting on Tsukishima's shoulder as they watched the sun get just a bit closer to the horizon.

After getting off the Ferris wheel they headed to a yakiniku restaurant that had great ratings online, because what better way to eat good quality meat than to grill it yourself. They got seated in a booth with cushy leather seats near the back of the glimmering, boogie restaurant. Tsukishima was in charge of deciding which course they would take, since he was paying for 80% of it, and out of the three options he chose the 2nd most expensive Kobe beef set for two. The set allowed him to pick between different appetizers, rice options, and the many different cuts of beef they were going to receive to cook on the table grill between them. The service was speedy and they received their drinks and appetizers in just a few minutes. Shortly after that they received the meat and they got to grilling the best meal their commoner mouths had ever tasted. It was so good they felt transported, and even Tsukishima, who only ever goes as far as to grin a little when food is good, was mumbling words of approval. They talked only occasionally and ate slowly so they could properly enjoy every bite of the food. And when the check finally came, though it felt like a small stab to the stomach, neither of them would deny that it was totally worth it.

They left for their inn in Arashiyama at around 8pm and got there at 9:30pm. The cute little inn glowed in yellow lights as it sat on the riverbank of Oigawa, across from Mt. Arashiyama. This time they had reserved a room with a personal open aired bath so the moment they reached it, they stripped and plunged right in. Their bath didn't last long because not a second after the tension in their bodies dissipated and the water had warmed them, their hands were already traveling up and down each other's bodies. Something about having an open aired bath to themselves (and there being no risk of being caught) was extremely alluring. But they didn't get too carried away since sound traveled easily in places like this, and only had a heavy make-out session before walking back inside, hurriedly drying each other, and hopping into their futons to continue where they had left off. _It was like a honeymoon high that never ended_. Once they had gone for two rounds, they haphazardly cleaned themselves off with tissues and dipped into the bath one more time to get rid of that sticky feeling. They slipped into their yukatas and returned to the coziness of their futon—but there was no plan to sleep just yet. Yamaguchi knew that it was when they were in each other's embrace, and the darkness hid his expression, that Tsukishima found it most comfortable to explain himself. And so Yamaguchi allowed him that avenue, turning to his side, tucking his arm under his head, and patting the futon right by his chest so that Tsukishima could nestle in it. Tsukishima did, using one arm to cushion his own head, and the other draped over Yamaguchi's hip. They tangled their legs together and Yamaguchi rested his free arm over Tsukishima's shoulder, petting his soft hair gently.

Yamaguchi placed chaste kisses on Tsukishima's forehead, "Please talk to me."

Tsukishima sighed, his breath hot against Yamaguchi's chest, "My brother by mistake let it slip to my parents that I'm living with someone, though thankfully he didn't tell them it was a man, and they have been nagging me nonstop to meet this person."

"And you're scared of what their reaction is going to be when they meet me."

"Yes. I'm terrified." Tsukishima took Yamaguchi's free hand in his and squeezed it, "But I don't want to hide you. And though I love my parents, if I had to pick between them and you, I'd pick you in a heartbeat. But I also don't want to lose them. Akiteru was extremely supportive of this relationship, but I have no idea if my parents would be. I just don't know anything and that scares me."

"I'm not going to let you lose them, Kei." Yamaguchi brought their linked hands to his lips and kissed the back of Tsukishima's, "Even if they are uncomfortable with the idea at first, they'll warm up to it. After all, you're their precious son. And I'll also try my best to make them love me."

"As if you'd have to do much…with one song they'd be hooked," Tsukishima replied a bit dryly.

"That's my plan," Yamaguchi chuckled, "Tell them we'll visit as soon as possible. You're not fighting this alone. You have to rely on me more."

Tsukishima nodded, "I'll try."

"Good."

Tsukishima pulled his hand from Yamaguchi's and draped it around his hips again, pulling him even closer, "There was one more thing."

Yamaguchi could feel his chest get even warmer and he pondered if Tsukishima was blushing, "What is it?"

"…if everything goes well with my parents, do you want to join my family?"

"Huh?" Yamaguchi croaked, pulling a bit away from Tsukishima so he could grab his face and lock eyes, "Are you talking about adopting me? Is that what you meant by the partnership certificate being 'not enough'?"

Tsukishima's golden eyes wavered; dying to look anywhere else, but he didn't shift his gaze, "Yes."

Yamaguchi giggled, eyes filing with tears, "That would be amazing!" He ducked down to share short, feathery kisses with Tsukishima in between his crying and babbling, "I love you." His lips move to Tsukishima's cheeks and nose, "You make me so damn happy." And then landed on his lips again, "I love you so much."

Tsukishima chuckled, something so rare and so precious that it filled Yamaguchi's heart to the point of busting, "I love you too, Tadashi. If I could be the cause of this smile for the rest of my life, I'll be satisfied."

And yet again, Yamaguchi's waterworks started. Tsukishima pressed him to his chest and wrapped him in a tight embrace, so that Yamaguchi could hear the beat of the heart he loved so much, and so he could hum himself to a calm. Sleep didn't come easy to either of them—there was excitement, nerves, and a tad bit of fear simmering in their stomachs. But it came eventually, and brought with it the start of a glorious new day.

They woke up bright and early feeling lighter, and a bit groggy. The still had six hours to get to Shibuya for their appointment this afternoon, and so they planned to leave right after breakfast to head straight there. They dressed up a bit: Yamaguchi sporting a light blue, short sleeved button up, black tie, and black trousers, and Tsukishima wearing a long-sleeved button up, with a dark grey tie and matching trousers. Yamaguchi even gathered his hair into a side ponytail, insisting that he should look a bit more put together for this special day.

Breakfast was buffet style and both of them opted for more of an American breakfast, though Tsukishima couldn't resist having smoked salmon for the second morning in a row. Having packed before going to breakfast, once they were done, they merely picked up their bags from their room and checked out. For 8 am, the roads were considerably empty and the sky was yet again spotless. Six hours was a lot of time to kill, so in between their restroom stop and break for lunch, Yamaguchi continued scribbling in his notebook, singing along to any of the songs he knew coming from the radio, and occasionally convincing Tsukishima to play a game of shiritori.

Though a bit exhausted, they arrived at the Sibuya ward office twenty minutes before their 2pm appointment. They parked in the parking lot, grabbed all their documentation, straightened up their clothes a bit, and walked into the building with hands linked. The building was just another typical government building, grey, a bit dreary, and very clean. They signed in and were taken to a small room with the official responsible for the special partnership certificates. He sat them down on creaky metal chairs, gave each of them a clipboard of forms to fill out, and explained all the specifics of what the certificate actually meant. Long story short: the certificate was actually a symbol of the ward's support of the eventual legalization of same-sex marriage, but aside from publicly shaming any company that discriminated against same-sex couples, the ward could not take any legal measures. Once he finished explain everything and they signed all their forms, it was time to move on to the certificate. They each took turns signing the thick paper, the official then stamped it while congratulating them, and they were sent on their merry way. Efficient, threading on the thin line between cold and friendly, and similar to moving through the post office—the whole event was almost comically anticlimactic.

Yamaguchi held the document close to his chest, his lips curling into a small smile, "I thought I was going to cry again, but that atmosphere made it really hard to."

"I don't know how you'd even work up a tear after all the crying you did last night."

"I did not cry _that_ much. "

Tsukishima paused outside the car door, "Are you disappointed?"

"Not at all, " Yamaguchi shook his head insistently, "It's nice to have. And it's the actual trip here that mattered the most."

They got into the car again, opened the roof, and buckled up. Yamaguchi placed the certificate in the hardcover holder the office had supplied them with and stored that in his bag. Though they were going to go back the same way they came from, to the same town, and the same house, things felt just a bit different. It was hard to put a finger on it, but if Yamaguchi had to name the feeling, it was an overwhelming sense of _relief_. It's not like this document tied them together any more than the silver rings they were wearing, and it's also not like he had ever doubted Tsukishima's love for him, but their hearts and minds, at least for this moment, were completely in sync. And the realization that every worry, hope, and goal each of them will have from now on, will be rooted either indirectly or directly, in the desire to be together until their last breath, made joy bubble up in Yamaguchi's chest. He wanted to do something about it.

 **And Mitsuyama never felt like home to me**. Yamaguchi sang almost to himself as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

Tsukishima glanced at him, "What's wrong?"

Yamaguchi gave Tsukishima a devilish smile as he stood up and grabbed the frame of the car, the wind blowing his hair all over the place. He sang a bit louder this time, voice borderline screaming as he worked his way through the words. **And Mitsuyama never felt like home, and Mitsuyama never felt like home to me…**

"Get down you idiot. You're going to hurt yourself," Tsukishima warned.

He bent down slightly, leaning a bit closer to Tsukishima, and directed his yelling straight at him. **Until I had you on the open road and now we're singing.**

"Sing!" Yamaguchi encouraged, continuing the melody with a lovely hum.

"No way," Tsukishima stammered, "I don't even know the song."

"There are no words to this part, just follow me." Yamaguchi continued the rhythm he was previously humming, "Ah, ah, ahah, ahhahaha."

"Ah, ah, ahah...my voice sucks, Tadashi."

"Just stop thinking for once and loosen up. Listen to the rhythm and scream!"

Tsukishima groaned and spitefully screamed at full volume, "Ah, ah, ahah, ahhahaha…"

"Perfect," Yamaguchi chuckled and he faced the road again, joining in to lead them to the next part of the karaoke session.

And there they were. Two 29-year-olds screaming their heads off while driving down the highway because… _love_.


End file.
